


Get you right where you like it

by scottmczall



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-09
Packaged: 2018-03-17 03:07:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3512936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scottmczall/pseuds/scottmczall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Stiles says he’s near, sending two texts per second, telling her how much he wants her, taking no mundane bonds like keeping himself from sounding as desperately turned on as she imagines he is. It works like setting her on fire.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get you right where you like it

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, sweetness'. 
> 
> So this, this is very different from everything I've ever written before, but Po and I were talking about the lack of dirty Stydia we've got going on and, well, this happened. Hope you guys like it :)
> 
> (This is [me](http://scottmczall.tumblr.com/)/[me](http://writinski.tumblr.com/) and this was done with the beta-ing of [Po](http://mcmartinskees.tumblr.com/))

Lydia's been expecting this weekend like nothing else in the world matters. She drops her purse on the floor soon as her heels clack inside the cabin, pushing it aside with her feet and proceeding to explore the place. She’s been there before and there’s nothing actually new about it, but the curious fluttering feeling growing on her stomach says otherwise, so she searches through it nonetheless.

Stiles says he’s near, sending two texts per second, telling her how much he wants her, taking no mundane bonds like keeping himself from sounding as desperately turned on as she imagines he is. It works like setting her on fire. There’s no place for her until he gets there, she knows it all too well- and that's why she can't even sit. She considers getting herself ready, but knows he’ll only get annoyed at her if she does. So Lydia stands, phone on her hand, reading through his texts.

‘ _Just how wet r u right now?_ ’ It’s the latest he sends. She smiles, crossing one leg in front of the other as she leans against the wall. Too wet, that’s how much. And after two years it still bothers her the things he can do without even being actually there.

‘ _Stop texting and driving._ ’ She replies nonchalantly, teasing for the hell of it.

‘ _I’m in a cab. How wet?_ ’ Lydia sucks on her bottom lip, thinking about him hard inside the cab. It’s too much of a Stiles move for her not to picture him with his shoulder pressed against the door on the driver’s side, so they won’t be able to see the protuberance growing in his pants as he texts furiously.

‘ _Why a cab_?’ She can hear the innocence of her voice spelling the words inside her minds and hopes Stiles does the same. She waits brief instants before his answer gets to her.

‘ _Fuck, Lyds, just answer me._ ’ A laugh escapes her lips and she caves reluctantly, reading his curse, letting her fingers hover over the screen a few seconds before she types it and sends. She wants to ask why the hell he’s taking so long, but she knows he won’t tell her until they’re relatively done getting off.

‘ _Very wet. I thought about starting off w/o u…_ ’ She confesses, now playing with the hem of her shirt. She’s irritated he’s not there yet and suddenly touching herself to take the pleasure of doing so away from him doesn’t at all seem like a bad idea.  

‘ _Don’t._ ’ He replies fast.

‘ _Baby give me 1 minute i s2g._ ’ She loses count after this one, and is pretty sure he’s only sending nonsensical sentences to keep her from engaging in other activities.

Lydia opens her skirt and lets it slide down to the floor, feeling the smooth fabric brush against her skin as it falls down. She sits on the bed, taking her shirt off, bra on its way altogether. She thinks of his reaction when he sees her like that as the back of her neck rests against the bed’s headboard, hands searching for her slit. God, she _is_ way too wet. Lydia is usually uncomfortable doing this without covers over her, but the moment calls for it. She can only think about Stiles' face as she opens her folds, feeling them slippery and her hole welcoming when she slides the first finger in. She thinks back to the way Stiles goes down on her, looking up when he's finished with lips and chin wet from her. Her lips press together in a flat line and her brows draw together when she hooks her finger up, looking for the right spot.

Her breath is hot like everything else in the room when the cabin’s door creaks open. She hears his steps and thrusts inside herself for each one she can count. He's searching for her silently until he isn't anymore.

“Lydia, tell me you’re n—” Stiles makes the curve inside the room with words slipping out of his mouth, but they’re gone the second he sees her. Lydia looks up at him, surely flushed and he throws her a disapproving glare. His eyes closes and he sighs. His shoulders straighten and he becomes stern fast enough for her to capture the discrepant and yet familiar difference in his posture. A wave of heat washes through her and it reflects on her wetness almost immediately. “What did I tell you?”

“I—” She swallows, feeling her mouth dry, then licks her lips, stopping all other motions. “You told me not to.”

“Why are you so mean?” He asks lowly after a long sigh, getting closer and she knows it’s not addressed to her. Stiles’ eyes flicker from her breasts to her thighs and she can see his breaths growing deeper like he needs to gather himself before settling on the bed. She stays shut when he's finally sitting beside her. Her finger is still in place and she does her best not to move it, even if her walls pulse and close pleadingly around it.  “Take it out.” He nods towards the hand sunk between her legs. She does as she’s told- sufferably, might she add-, whimpering at the small loss. "Fuck, Lydia, look at how wet you are already." He admires the view, mouth slightly gaping and Lydia thinks she might just burst. "Is it all from fucking yourself?" Stiles demands.

"No. I told you before, I was al—"

"It reached your asshole, baby." He ignores it, flipping a finger over said hole and she drowns the uprising irritation that motioned inside her. "I could fuck your brains out right now if I wanted to and you'd be ready for me."

"You do want to."

"Well, yeah," He licks his lips briefly, voice small, looking a little lost on her, "But I always do.", but before she can answer he slips one of his fingers inside her and she moans, hooking him in her gaze. He keeps it up. He always does. Over their time together she finds Stiles to be much better at fingering her than she is—which is an _outrage_ —, finding her most sensitive spot much easier than she does, somehow. She huffs a harsh breath and, as usual, heat spreads around her. Her nipples harden and she feels her pussy pulsing, making it hard for her to keep up the silence.

“How do you feel about two?” He asks absently. Stiles talks, always, so much, and sometimes it’s unbearable—what his words can do is inexplicable. The second finger gets swallowed and she bucks her hips forward in response. He adjusts himself on the bed until they're aligned with each other, and his hand splay across her waist, veins popping slightly under scattered moles, holding her down, the bastard.

"Fuck," Lydia mutters under her breath, throwing her head back. Stiles takes her motion as an invitation, leaning forward ably, and kisses the line of her neck, slowly and open-mouthed, like they have all the time in the world.

He's good with his mouth, so good, and he knows her so well, it's hard to cope when he touches her exactly where she wants him to—the beautiful outcome of the heavy discipline work she brought upon him in the early stages of their relationship. "I wanna fuck you outside today, Lyds." He speaks right below her ear, sucking a bruise on her skin. She only lets him when they're there. "Will you let me?"

"Yes." She answers in a heartbeat. His fingers dig further and he caresses her clit with his thumb before taking her mouth for the first time since he's gotten there.

Stiles is an eager kisser, always has been, and he motions his entire body with it, covering her entirely. He starts thorough and rough, before he gets sloppy, averting his attention to other business, such as playing with her folds, pulling and pinching slightly. He licks her bottom lip rapidly and bites down on it hard, just like she likes it. She whines louder than intended, and with that completely drops her absentminded quest to be a little quieter.

"I wanna go down on you." Stiles smirks and she feels his hand travel down her side, settling on her waist.

"The sooner the better."

He smiles wide, fully willing, hovering over her body as he descends to where two of his fingers are buried in. Stiles nuzzles her clit before licking her inner folds. He sucks on them and settles the flat of his tongue in the middle when he's done, licking fully now and teasing right under her sensitive spot. Like she said, he's good.

Her head swims in the sensation and she twists her hips to the side only to have him hold her down again, removing his fingers this time. The shaky breath she lets out doesn't suggest irritation, but Stiles compensates either way, filling her again, this time with his restless tongue. The first time he did it, it was a religious experience and she thought she was about to burst, having his nose bump just at the right place every time he moved his head in the slightest and his tongue swirling inside her, motioning back and forth. She's familiar with it now, but that doesn't mean it doesn't lift her up into a holy dimension. Lydia gasps, pulling herself up by the elbows and watches as her boyfriend works. "You're..." She sighs, almost falling flat all over again, but holds her position, letting only her neck relax.

"I'm what?" Stiles asks, licking his lips shiny with her fluid and his spit. She frowns, reaching for his head and dipping it back where it was.

"Don't fucking stop!" She grits out and he huffs a laughter against her, causing unholy vibrations that make her squirm. "Dammit, Stiles, j-just finish it already!" Lydia demands and once again he gives in, circling her clit with his tongue, using this thumb to pull the skin out of the way and touch her more effectively. Lydia cries out when he sucks on it, always gently, rubbing his tongue just the right way. She doesn't know how many times she's come with him eating her out, but she knows he always seems to outdo himself—practice leading to perfection and all that. When it hits her this time, leaving her all quivery limbs and white noise blanking her thoughts, she cries out with a sharp whine, reaching firmly for the bed linen. She pulls him up by the hair when it all feels too much, desperate for a taste.

He follows and kisses her wholeheartedly, correcting their positions simply by gripping and lifting her by the ass cheek, fitting their bodies together.

"You okay?" Stiles nibbles her ear, then inhales her like she's a drug.

"I just came. I'm much better than okay." She retorts.

"You look really pretty after I make you come." He smiles smugly, running a hand up to her breast. The fact that he's still dressed doesn't slip her mind. There are too many layers of clothes, but she'll fix that in just a second. She rolls her eyes, still a little out of breath.

"Don't be a dick about it." She bites and he pinches her nipple in response, getting a little squeak out of her.

"Speaking of dicks… I've got a hard one for you." Stiles chuckles, playing with her nipple between his fingers.

"You're so embarrassing." Lydia smiles openly, already one orgasm too deep to actually scold him on his lines. "You wanna be embarrassing outside?" She suggests, throwing her arms around his neck.

"Lyds, if you wanna get fucked you just need to ask, really." His voice comes out raspy and low, the tone he hits when she starts getting to him on another level.

"I thought I just had." She answers calmly and he pinches her again. The hot wave burning from her chest to her lower belly is hard to ignore this time, so she arches forward, wanting more. Lydia watches him back away for a second, sitting on the edge of the bed and finally getting rid of his clothes. She likes the undulations of the muscles on his back when he lowers his body to get rid of his shoes, and admires his biceps when he's taking off his pants.

Stiles smirks, turning back to her in roughly the same position, lowering his head, and sweeps her nipple with his tongue, "You might wanna try again." He latches on this time and stays, swirling around the nub with intent. It reminds her of all the times he's left them stiff, sore and overly sensitive. It's heaven and hell all at once. That's what he is.

She holds back a sob, biting down on her bottom lip when a blinding sensation washes through her, and only opens her mouth when it's slightly less intense, "How do you want me to ask for it?" Lydia questions in almost a chuckle. She knows how he wants it, how he usually wants it, but that doesn't mean she doesn't like to hear him saying the words.

He lets go of her with an obscene, wet noise, "I like it dirty. You think you could do that for me?" Stiles full on licks her breast from the bottom, back to her nipple again.

Lydia smiles, pulling him up by the jaw, and moans unashamedly when his thigh rubs against her swollen clit. She nods, her face close to his, and hugs him close by the neck, letting her lips brush against his earlobe. "I wanna sink down on your cock and ride you until you're begging me to go faster… harder," She nuzzles her nose against his hair and nibbles on his ear, hearing it the moment his breath hitches. "You're gonna say my name like it's a prayer, Stiles, and I'm gonna go slow until I get tired and tell you to fuck me like you mean it." Lydia finishes and he swallows hard, pulling back so he can look at her. "... Please?" She gives him her most innocent look and pecks him on the lips.

Stiles rolls off of her and gets up on his feet quicker than she thought possible, and it's the first time she catches a glimpse of his cock arched against his lower belly, already making a mess of precome on the spot. He pulls her by the legs and slides his hands under her ass, lifting her up with a firm grip by her cheeks. She yelps in surprise and launches her arms around his neck again. "You're gonna kill me one day, you know that? From something really stupid like a super hard on, or blue balls." He says the words lowly, like they're actual complaints and Lydia chuckles.

"You're being overdramatic." She remarks in a condescending tone. "You're also being slow," She bites him on the shoulder, drawing a whine out of him. "I brought toys in my purse, I can find solace elsewhere."

Stiles shoots her a dirty look, finally crossing the cabin's front door, and finds the chair, where he settles semi comfortably (it's wooden and they could do better). "There," He declares happily, letting her adjust herself on his lap. Lydia scoots as close as possible, catching his eyes with hers, and moves against him, grinding in the slowest, most torturous manner. Her pussy traces his length and he sighs, letting his head fall on her shoulder. He places wet kisses on her skin, dragging his lips down her collar bones and mouths at it, suppressing a groan when she shoots up, reaching his cock's head.

"I'm going, baby, I'm going." She soothes him with sweet whispers, keeping her weight up when she grabs his length by the base, settling its tip on her entrance. They make muffled sounds when she comes down on him, sliding carefully with gritted teeth. She doesn't like it slow as much as she likes it fast and rough, but the way he whimpers pairs the two up and suddenly she's fine with a little waiting. When she takes him completely she takes his face in one of her hands and kisses him full on the mouth, wet and filthy. Lydia sucks on his tongue, listening in on the noises he makes and bucks her hips up and down, drawing the movements at her own aching pace. She works her hips in calm waves, pulling away to see Stiles' face.

He never disappoints her, all slack jawed and ready to beg. She stares at him, silently urging for him to do it already, and he licks his lips, sucking on the bottom like he’s trying to keep the words back. She cants her hips up, staying there for a while, then goes down fast, just to give him a taste, “Fuck, Lydia,” He sobs helplessly and she moans both from the sensation of having him back inside her like that, and his words. “Again,” Stiles request comes out weakly, because he already knows that’s a no.

Lydia shakes her head, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips, “Not yet.” She replies breathily, moving forward instead of upwards this time. “S’ not enough yet.”

Stiles frowns, looking down, and contours her body with his hands, stopping on her hips, “Feels like— _ah_ —like it is.” His head falls back when she moves up and down again. “Lyds, please,” He lets the words drip sweetly and Lydia almost melts to the sound of them, humming approvingly.

She lets her hand travel from his happy trail carefully, grazing his skin with her nails, going up his navel and faint abs, until his chest and tweaks his nipple. Two can play that game, even if belatedly. Stiles swallows and Lydia watches his Adam’s apple go up and down, making a point of mirroring the motion with her hips as it does. “Once won’t do,” She reminds him, "If I'm gonna let you fuck me, you'll have to do better."

Her settled pace seems to get to him along with her words, and Stiles groans, "P-please, Lydia, I—", he frowns with his eyes closed when she swirls his nipple in between her fingers and wets his lips with his tongue, "I'm gonna fuck you so good, Lyds, make you feel so good." He goes for the crook of her neck this time, licking it briefly, placing soft kisses on her sensitive skin. "Pound your pussy like you like it, hm? 'Til you come all over me." His trail of kisses go up to her jaw, "You're gonna scream for me, aren't you? Gonna—ah, _fuck_ —you're gonna f-fucking scream." He speaks softly and she holds back a moan, moving a little faster than she had been initially.

Lydia pants and wheezes as quietly as she can manage, gripping to him a little tighter now, a little more desperately, like he had been gripping to her. She pulls his head back by the hair and looks at him in the eye before sucking on his bottom lip, "You can fuck me now, Stiles," She barely finishes the sentence before he's wrapping her waist with both his arms and fucking up to her like he needs to. It's a burning wet sensation Lydia could never get enough of, and it gets her louder, and carefree. She can hear his thighs slamming against her ass and gives in with eyes closed.

Stiles murmurs against her ear, sliding a little down the chair, "You take me so good Lyds, take it so good," He's genuine and lovestruck, high on sex—on _her_. "Love when let me fuck you l-like this," His words melt down on hot air and her tight gasps and desperate, thankful chokes. He tilts his hips in the slightest and hits her spot as he does.

Lydia all but groans against his shoulder, dragging her nails there. She can almost hear Stiles' smirk, and how proud he must be feeling of himself when his hand travels down her asscheek and slaps her hard, making a loud smack. Oh, this is new. She gasps again and it's sensational, "Again," She demands and he complies beautifully, letting his hand come down again, this time a little lighter. Lydia screws her eyes shut and groans in frustration even though he keeps his evenly sharp pace, "Don't—don't hold back," She sighs with determination, "Again."

"Jesus Christ, Lydia." Stiles catches his breath and holds her even more firmly by the waist, smacking her harder than before and she cries out in delight. "Holy shit,” He mutters breathily, running his hand up only to get a hold of her breast and work her already sore nipple. Lydia purses her lips, bucking her hips down to meet Stiles’ thrusts when she feels him latching on to her again, inhaling sharply as he does. She knows it's his thing for him and doesn’t question all the times he does. She's rather pleased, and suspects that’s one of the reasons why he likes doing it so much. “I’m close.” He murmurs against her skin.

Lydia swallows, feeling him slam into her harder than before, her eyes beginning to burn. “C’mon then.” She makes sure to keep his mouth where it is by taking the reigns through the grip on his hair. Stiles knows what she means, she’s told him before, so it’s no surprise when she feels his digits restless against her, looking for the clit. When he finds it, it’s a blessing, and she can feel the a heavy coiling of pleasure rise inside her, igniting. Stiles rubs it just like she taught him, fast and in small circles, taking her breath away. She clenches down on his cock and he grunts, mouth going slack. A fresh breeze rushes through the warm spot Stiles let go of and it makes her skin break in goosebumps. Before she knows it her legs are trembling around him, and she whimpers, trying to hold back the overwhelmed scream that follows through despite her best efforts. The sensation is mind boggling and burns right through her, like it’s breaking her skin apart.

She sobs, feeling one tear escape her eye and blinks through the haze and the white noise. “Stop.” She orders, splaying her hands across his chest, and it sounds final. Stiles hesitates before seizing his pace and doesn’t question her when she decidedly climbs off or his lap. Lydia sinks to her knees, looking at him tentatively and takes his cock on her hand, stroking it once lazily and twice sharply, as if getting acquainted all over again. Stiles bucks his hip up, fucking into her fist and she scolds him with a brief clack of her tongue, “Not there,” She warns happily. “Here.” And with that she’s covering the head with her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. Lydia looks up just in time to see Stiles’ head fall back as he groans helplessly. She dives all the way down, acknowledging every vein pulsing against the walls of her mouth, smugly aware of what this particular heat does to her boyfriend.

Stiles looks down at her and Lydia swears he’s seeing god, entangling his fingers amidst her strawberry golden locks. His expression grows more stern and she knows he’s asking permission to fuck her mouth, so she nods as best as she can, given the situation and she can almost see his eyes rolling to the back of his head when she does so, “Seriously gon' kill me,” Stiles almost only mouths the words, but she hears them anyway, and it's nothing if not encouraging. He thrusts once with eyes screwed shut and she hollows her cheeks, leaving her throat loose for him. They’ve done this. She’s got it. The second time is less rough and more precise, like he’s remembering, and she appreciates it because it’s the perfect amount so she doesn't choke. “Can't believe you let me do this, so good for me,” He coos adoringly and sets his pace, fast and court, getting Lydia to hum. “So perfect, Lydia, lettin’ me feed you my cock, I can’t—“ He groans and frowns, finally letting his eyes fall open again. "I'm gonna come.” Stiles warns softly, letting go of her hair and she takes him with even move intent, going back to working him with her hands as well.

Lydia grips to his thigh fast enough that she feels his muscles do rigid as he shoots his load down her throat, and her palm feels tingly all of the sudden. Lydia swallows, still watching Stiles as he spasms and twitches inside her mouth, now caressing her cheeks as she takes everything she can. As she lets him go, heavy lidded blessed out, he marks her chin and bottom lip. She rises up, crowding him before sitting sideways on his lap, and before she can think of cleaning herself up, Stiles kisses her and groans into her mouth to the taste of himself. He licks her clean and pecks the corner of her mouth, then her cheek and the tip of her nose. Lydia giggles, hugging him by the neck, “Well, that was nice.”

Stiles gives her a smile without showing any teeth and kisses her forehead. “Always is.” He says tenderly. The breathe each other in for a few moments, listening to their hearts cooling down, until Stiles interrupts their bliss, “How's school going?”

Lydia pouts pensively, tracing his collar bones with the tip of her fingers, “Barely keeping up with me.” She replies finally, giving him a kiss herself.

“So usual stuff, then?” He chuckles and Lydia nods. “That's good. Can’t wait for us to get our degrees so I can see you everyday.”

This time she sighs, feeling her heart sinking under his words. She forgets that there’s no winning hand in this particular aspect of their relationship currently, and it’s heartbreaking to be reminded like that. She takes his face on one hand and brushes her thumb through his cheek, looking at him attentively, “We're almost there.” She guarantees, placing a quick kiss on his lips. “Besides, this is fun.” Lydia shrugs, crossing her legs when she goes back to her usual nonchalance.

“How’d I get this lucky?” He teases, knowing her aversion to his cheesiness.

Lydia rolls her eyes, "It's a mystery.”

**Author's Note:**

> Every feedback is a tear of joy, people, don't spare me.


End file.
